


Collection Development

by alpacamyhedgehog



Series: Librarians of S.H.I.E.L.D. [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Gen, Interns & Internships, Librarians, Library Shenanigans, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacamyhedgehog/pseuds/alpacamyhedgehog
Summary: It's summer internship season! With interns to wrangle, superheroes to fangirl over, and government secrets to guard, the Librarians of S.H.I.E.L.D. are going to be very busy...





	1. Chapter 1

Welcome banner? Check.

Food ordered for the pizza party? Check.

One personalized summer schedule, carefully trimmed with glitter glue and Avengers stickers? Definite check.

No doubt about it, Ryan Cordero was prepared to mother duck the heck out of these summer interns.

Not only had he actually read the information packet Amy had given him on his assigned intern, he stayed up late every night for a week preparing a project that would complement her interests and goals.

He’d even missed out on a Gilmore Girls marathon to do it. Well, mostly. He had sketched out a few ideas while Lorelai snarked in the background. Ah, the best of intentions.

Still, Heidi Vanhoven, whoever she might be, was in for the summer internship of her life. At least, that was the plan.

His excitement might not have been contagious among the other librarians, but he did get Karla and Jen to help him prep goodie bags for the interns with S.H.I.E.L.D. logo gear from the Triskelion gift shop, cheat sheets on A.C.C.E.S.S. databases, and lists of acronyms they’d learned on the job over the past few months.

To be honest, he was disappointed that the rest of the librarians weren’t excited about the interns.

Baby librarians at A.C.C.E.S.S.! All summer long! And he’d have a whole intern to himself!

Maybe Karla was right, and he was weirding out a little too much. He just didn’t see how he could  _ not _ be excited about showing someone how wonderful A.C.C.E.S.S. was and how great it was to be a librarian.

Karla and Jen might not have been super-thrilled, but compared to the other librarians, they were ecstatic.

Roger was the worst, complaining about the extra responsibility over lunch breaks and at staff meetings, and, well, anytime someone would listen.

And, like, fair.

Two of the temporary catalogers would finish their stint over the summer and move on, leaving two other temps who had agreed to stay on for another six months. Mary Beth was reliable, but Scott would only work at night. Ryan secretly thought of him as the library ghost. A good ghost who got stuff done, but it was a little weird that you always saw the pile of books he’d cataloged, but you never saw  _ him _ . When Ryan asked Amy about it, she said it was best to let the catalogers do what they wanted.

Roger, whose second-favorite topic to complain about was the backlog of acquisitions yet to be cataloged, was frantic. He waffled between the stress of having to train new interns and the relief of having extra hands on deck when the short-term temps left.

After one difficult meeting, Ryan overheard Amy pull him aside and hiss, “Interns are not slave labor, Rog. Honestly, pull yourself together!”

Obviously, stress was getting to Roger, whatever Amy said. One morning on the metro to the Triskelion, Ryan saw him picking apart an embroidered pokeball--one of many colorful patches on his briefcase. And, like, Ryan didn’t know him very well, but that looked bad. Roger loved that briefcase and its patches. It might well be the only colorful thing in his drab business formal wardrobe.

Ryan kept emergency supplies in the bottom drawer of the reference desk. When he got to work that day, he dug through it until he found a smiley face stress ball. He left it and a small package of Skittles on Rogers’ desk while the catalogers were on a coffee break.

Cora, though. Yikes. Cora was not having a fun time.

Ryan hadn’t known her as long as he’d known Karla and Jen, but she had always seemed calmer than either of them--about anything but supervising two archival interns.

“Hey, are you really doing ok?” he asked her quietly during their latest Star Wars marathon with Jen.

“Look, I just want to work on processing in peace!” she snapped in a panicked whisper. “I had projects I wanted to get done this summer. I didn’t ask for interns to teach.”

“Oh, girl.”  With Karla and Jen, Ryan would have offered a hug, but Cora shied away from being touched most of the time.  He offered the popcorn bowl instead. 

“You don’t have to teach them,” he said again after a mouthful of popcorn. “Look, don’t you have any projects you don’t want to work on? Something that’s been keeping you from getting to whatever you really want to do? I don’t know...something boring or messy that you feel like shoving off on someone else?”

She pulled at her lip. “I guess so. There’s some financial records from the fifties that no one’s wanted to touch for about that long.”

“Well, start with that and see how it goes, ok?”

When she nodded, Ryan felt like maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to help the rest of his coworkers prepare for the interns.

He also managed to rope Karla and Jen into helping him make a welcome banner for the interns. He could boost morale, kick off the interns’ first day on a good note, and use up some of the glitter glue and pom poms he’d been hoarding since the days when he thought he’d become a children's librarian.

For all three of them, making the banner was a throwback to grad school, when Ryan fixed everything from bad grades to bad breakups with a coloring marathon and super loud pop music.

By the time the interns arrived for orientation, and by the time Jen had startled a few agents with her rendition of “Firework,” a bedazzled monstrosity was hanging over the reference desk to greet the interns.

When Amy led the new crew up to the desk, they all looked a little dazed by the reference librarians’ creation, although Ryan guessed it was also from the intense S.H.I.E.L.D. orientation that interns from every department had gone through over the past few days. To be honest, he was still recovering from the new employee orientation he’d gone through in January. Not fun.

After a quick introduction to the reference desk staff, an awkward silence ensued.

Amy, looking a little wilted with a few strands straying from her tidy bun, threw Ryan a glance as if to ask what was next.

It was weird to have Amy looking to him for help. She always seemed surprised when Ryan, Jen, and Karla looked up to her, but she was just the kind of person who could get you to eat your vegetables and feel grateful about it. It was an excellent quality to have in a boss.

Plus, she could really put the fear of Melvil Dewey in the crustiest S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Ryan privately imagined she could give even Fury a run for his money.

Seeing her hesitate now made Ryan doubt he could handle an intern after all. If even Amy was nervous…

“Hey!” he chirped, pulling himself together and making a few of the interns jump in the process. “Who’s ready for pizza?”

Amy nodded gratefully and led the interns and reference librarians to the media room, where Cora, June, and Frank had set up lunch. Ryan lagged behind long enough to get a new box of antacids from his supply bag and set it on Amy’s desk. He had a feeling she’d need them this week.

Once everyone had gotten food and settled into the media room’s comfy chairs, Amy introduced the staff members the interns hadn’t met yet, then began a quick role call to match the interns with their supervisors.

Ryan stood by the wall where he could see everyone, his plate piled high with pizza. He poked Karla and Jen with carrot sticks when they started whispering too loudly--he wanted to remember as many interns’ names and faces as possible.

Most were either MLIS students or cadets from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Communications. One or two had parents or siblings who were agents.

Ryan couldn’t help remembering when he was a grad student, too, before Jen had talked him and Karla into applying to the Academy together.  It was clear that the interns who were in grad school with no previous background with S.H.I.E.L.D. were a little dazed at having to learn the names of even more departments within A.C.C.E.S.S.--reference, duh; but also special collections, restricted files, cataloging, and Frank’s one-man IT office. He could definitely relate.

Amy made it through the first two names on her list when the tiny brunette who’d identified herself as Lily, one of Cora’s interns, bolted from her seat and made a beeline for the window that separated the media room from the main reading area.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She pressed her nose against the glass like a puppy who’d just spotted a squirrel outside. “Is that Captain America?”

Ryan looked up in time to see Steve “godawful Jello salad” Rogers walk across the reading room. When the superhero-turned-kitchen-menace saw the cluster of interns swarming at the window, he gave them a quick wave before disappearing from view, a newspaper tucked under his arm.

Amy moved toward the window, motioning the interns back to their seats and lowering the shade for good measure.

“His name is Steve, and we leave him alone,” she said firmly.

Bless her. Ryan barely suppressed a smile at her protectiveness of her celebrity crush. He was about to add that they had a hard enough time getting Steve to leave them alone, especially when weird casseroles were involved.

Instead, another intern burst out with a question. “Do you get a lot of superheroes in here?”

“Agent Romanoff visits the reference desk sometimes,” Ryan offered with a wink.

“That being said,” Amy spoke above the excited chatter that followed, “we’re here to serve all S.H.I.E.L.D. employees--Avengers to agents to administrative assistants--and as librarians, we need to treat everyone who walks into this library with the same level of enthusiasm.”

Oh, so that was why she tried to stay so chill around Steve. Ryan would have to tease her about equal enthusiasm next time she tried to hide her Cap-themed lanyard in a desk drawer when she heard his voice in the reading room.

“It’s also important to remember,” she continued, “that all library users are human beings. Well, some might be superhuman, but whatever. Treating everyone as people instead of just...random faces on the other side of your desk will take you a long way in this career.”

Ryan couldn’t agree more.

Once everyone had settled down, Amy resumed her role call. All was going well until she got to the last name on her list.

“And you must be Kathleen,” she finished, smiling at the last unnamed intern, a freckled young woman with dirty blonde hair.

The girl wrinkled her nose. “No? I’m Jodi.”

“Kathleen Thompson? MLIS student from Kentucky State? Archival intern?”

Jodi looked even more confused and shook her head.

“I...I think I must be in the wrong place,” she said. “I’m interning with Computer Services?”

The intern next to her, who’d just identified himself as Kyle, one of Roger’s cataloging interns, nudged her ankle with his foot and snickered.

“Dude. This is the library.”

Jodi glanced around cluelessly.  “Oh no, how do I…”

Frank intervened.

“Hey, no worries, Jodi! The Triskelion is super confusing, and everybody gets lost at least once during their first week here. You probably haven’t missed much, and if you’re really lucky, they haven’t given the interns lunch yet, so maybe you’ll get another meal out of it!”

She laughed with relief as she collected her things and followed him out of the media room.

The other interns shifted nervously after they’d left.

“So, Kathleen?” Amy prompted. “Anybody know where Kathleen would be?”

The interns looked around at each other.

“We don’t know any Kathleens,” Lily said at last.

“Yeah,” Kyle seconded. “She never showed for the large group sessions either.”

Ryan threw a glance at Cora, who looked a little relieved at the thought of only having one intern to look after.

“Well.” Amy restacked the papers in her hand and set them on the table in front of her, then smoothed them nervously. “Maybe Frank will find her over at Computer Services. Right. Tour of the library, anyone?”

The interns slowly shuffled to their feet and trailed after her, leaving a scattered mess of greasy paper plates and napkins in the media room.

Looking around at the messy space, the librarians who’d been left behind exchanged a look and began to clean up reluctantly.

Ryan could almost hear them thinking,  _ One crisis down. How many more to go? _

He wasn’t going to let their negativity get him down, though. As the interns left the media room, Heidi, his very own intern, an MLIS student with a mane of curly hair, had given him a nervous wave. She even had a Black Widow pendant.

It was going to be an _ awesome _ summer.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, I do! I have an idea!” Ryan’s intern, Heather?--no, Heidi--waved her hand wildly in the air.

Feeling a fresh wave of guilt for forgetting someone’s name for the umpteenth time, Amy rubbed the bridge of her nose before responding.

The summer interns had already been there a week, and although everyone else seemed to have settled into a routine, Amy was still getting used to their noise levels, questions, and awkwardness around the agents and the occasional superhero.

It was like having children around. Oversized, postgraduate children.

She had thought letting the interns sit in on staff meetings was a good idea. For the most part, they sat there quietly with earnest expressions (except for Kyle, who looked bored and fidgeted, but he looked bored and fidgeted all the time).

Until Amy brought up the fact that they still hadn’t seen as much traffic through the library as they would have liked and asked if anyone had fresh ideas on how to advertise A.C.C.E.S.S. services.

Heidi was bursting with excitement.

“What you guys need is a summer reading program!” she exclaimed.

Everyone stared at Heidi as if she’d just suggested burning all the books in the library, but she kept going.

“Just think about it,” she urged. “I used to work at a public library, and our stats skyrocketed in the summers thanks to the summer reading programs. We offered stuff for adults, too, and they participated just as much as the kids and teens did.”

Amy cleared her throat. “You...you do realize this is a specialized government library, right?”

She looked to June for support. As the librarian who had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. the longest, she sometimes let the others know when they were about to make a faux pas. To Amy’s dismay, though, she looked thoughtful.

“No, Heidi has a point.”

Amy raised an eyebrow.

June set down her pen and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, taking her time before explaining.

“Yeah, everything’s so serious around here all the time. The agents come in wearing their boring black suits wanting boring intel for boring missions, but if you talk with them, most of them are actual people with real personalities. They’re just bored. I think if we gave them something to do, some kind of fun motivation to come to the library for something besides research, that would really interest a lot of people.”

“ _ Everything’s boring here _ , says the archivist wearing a rocketship-print dress with planet earrings that would put Ms. Frizzle to shame,” Amy teased. 

June grinned and struck a dramatic pose.

“Well excuse me, but I got three compliments on my dress just in the hallway between the elevator and the A.C.C.E.S.S. entrance this morning. Which just goes to show,” she emphasized, wagging a finger, “that people here actually like non-boring things. Give them something wildly different from dark suits and dark sunglasses, and we’ll stand out for sure.”

“Hey,” Frank added, “if I’m allowed to participate in an A.C.C.E.S.S. summer reading program, I’d totally do it.”

Amy looked at her reference minions. All three of them were practically bouncing in their seats.

“You bet I’m on board with this,” Ryan said. 

“Does... _ anybody _ have any concerns before we go ahead with this?” Amy asked.

Crickets.

“Okay, then. I’m putting you reference interns in charge, under Ryan, but feel free to recruit anyone else who wants to get involved. You need to come up with posters, registration sheets, prizes, the whole nine yards. I…” She rolled her eyes with resignation. “I don’t want anything to do with it. Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with your regular projects.”

*

Ryan and the reference interns came up with a plan for how to register participants and track their progress. They picked out prizes, from dollar store joke toys for mile-markers to gift cards to the Triskelion Starbucks and other nearby restaurants for completing a goal.

The only problem was that they couldn’t decide on a good theme.

When they’d gone through several ideas that were shot down as either too serious or too childish, Ryan pulled out his phone and googled a list of summer reading themes.

He read them aloud.

“Be a READasaurus?”   


Too little kid-ish.

“Make a splash: Read?”

Let’s not tempt people to bring water guns into the library.

“Well, it looks like this summer’s most popular theme is Dig Into Reading. Could we do something with that?”

The interns looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Mission Possible: Spy a Book?”

Heidi liked the sound of that, but Paul, Karla’s intern, shook his head.

“Look, I know some of you are new to S.H.I.E.L.D., but I’m finishing up at the Academy, and trust me. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and spy-themed pop culture don’t always mix well.”

“Hey!” Lexa, Jen’s intern, spoke for the first time. “You know what everyone does like? Superheroes.”

“Oh my gosh, we could do an Avengers-themed summer reading program!” Heidi nearly shouted.

“I don’t think--” Ryan tried, but the other interns were nodding and talking over each other.

After that, everything kind of fell into place and the team started designing posters and flyers.

“Lucky for us, I have mad photoshop skills,” Heidi bragged, opening her laptop.

Ryan grinned helplessly. “Well, as long as you let me have a say in the Hawkeye poster, I’m okay with all of this.”

Heidi looked up again, her eyes wide. “Dude. You’re a Clint Barton fan, too?”

He nodded, grinning even wider.

“Clearly I have the best supervisor  _ ever _ ,” she said. “Let’s get to work.”

*

Amy knew something was about to go down when Captain America and Agent Romanoff walked into A.C.C.E.S.S. together.

Romanoff was carrying a messy stack of flyers and sporting an unreadable expression.

Steve looked a little serious, too, and Amy wondered what could be going on.

As soon as she saw them, she hightailed it out of her office and intercepted them before any interns could ask for a selfie...or a phone number.

“Can I help you two with any--”

Romanoff waved the flyers in Amy’s face.

“Are you responsible for these?”

After taking a look at the flyers, Amy felt like locking herself in her office for the next decade.

There was one for each Avenger, with flower crowns and cartoon candy hearts photoshopped with each hero. At the bottom of each poster was the motto “Find YOUR superpower at the library!” with the A.C.C.E.S.S. logo and room number.

The photos of Black Widow and Hawkeye both had color-coordinated flower crowns. Next to Widow were the words “Badass Queen” written in a flaming font, and a candy heart with “babe” written on it floated next to Clint’s face.

Amy was going to have a talk with Ryan about this.

“I--I am so sorry,” she began. “This was supposed to be our summer interns’ project, and one of our other staff members was supervising. I had no idea. I’ll--I’ll have words with whoever--and--and see if they can take them all down.”

“Are you kidding?” Romanoff’s voice rose, and Amy could see that she was--smiling? “This is the best thing that’s happened all week. I’m going to send one to each of the boys.”

She waved the Iron Man poster in Amy’s face. Someone had drawn nerd glasses over the helmet, and a book was badly photoshopped onto each hand.

“Tony’s going to hate it. Or love it. Whatever,  _ it’s so funny _ .”

Amy looked over at Steve, who was trying so hard not to laugh that he was almost in tears.

“I promise we’ll put them all back,” he said, “but I’m going to need to make a photocopy of this one.”

He held up his poster, which featured a stylized Cap holding out the shield. A cartoon word bubble protruded from the side of his helmet with the words “READING IS THE BEST DEFENSE.”

Amy groaned. Served her right for putting someone else in charge.


	3. Chapter 3

Amy wasn’t sure how to explain how she ended up careening through the aisles of Target in the basket of a shopping cart--other than the fact that it was very hard to say no to a 17-year-old superhero.

She certainly tried.

“Marcus, I’m 28. I work for a national intelligence organization. I am definitely too old and dignified to ride in that cart,” she told him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” he teased, wiggling the cart and tipping it up on its back wheels for good measure.

She pointed at it. “That is not reassuring.”

“If you’re worried about me turning the cart over,” he said, returning the cart to a stable position, “I used to push my baby cousins around like this all the time, and they added much less weight to the cart than you would.”

She glared.

“Oh...I didn’t mean it like that. Here, look. I’ll show you.”

He scooped her up and dumped her in the cart unceremoniously before she had time to protest.

She squawked and smoothed down her pencil skirt.

Somehow, the little twerp had the nerve to look down at her and ask if she was ready to go.

“Oh, whatever,” she sighed, and then they were sailing through the store.

She thought she was going to have a heart attack when he stopped running long enough to stand with both feet on the bar at the back of the cart and coasted.

“Haven’t you ever done this before?” he asked, leaning over the basket to get closer to her face.

“Um, no.” She waved frantically for him to stand up, and to her relief, he finally did.

“What, no siblings? No cousins? No pesky neighbor kids? I feel like I should know this about you, but I don’t.”

She shook her head. “No, it was just me. And anyway, I wasn’t allowed in the cart after I got too big for the child seat.”

Marcus looked serious for a moment, then shook his head with an effervescent smile.

“Lady, you were deprived.”

She laughed, but despite her continual fear that they’d run into some hapless shopper, this was actually fun.

It helped that it was still early afternoon, and not many people were out shopping yet.

Marcus had texted her earlier that morning saying that he had forgotten to get school and dorm supplies for the beginning of summer term at the Academy, which was supposed to begin that weekend. Thankfully, she was able to get away for an extended lunch break to take him shopping.

“Of course, if you’d let me know sooner,  _ like you were supposed to _ , we could have gotten this out of the way weeks ago,” she had chided him.

It was hard to believe this kid was going away to the Academy in just a few days. It wasn’t that far, but since Ops was a couple hours away in Maryland, Amy guessed they wouldn’t see him at the Triskelion anymore.

The other librarians had gotten used to having him around too, and a few of them had even asked her to pass on some college advice. Ryan suggested leaving his room door open for the first week so he’d seem friendlier to the other cadets; Karla offered a favorite hangover cure recipe.

Amy was doing her best to help him prepare for the Academy however she could. Today, that meant school supply shopping.

“Hey,” she shouted, flopping an arm outside the cart to get his attention. “We just missed the home goods section.”

“Oh, is that important?” He pulled the cart to a halt and pivoted it around.

“Duh,” she replied once she’d regained her balance. “Dorm supplies.”

He slowed, and then parked the cart. Together, they squinted at the rows and rows of packaged sheet sets.

“Okay,” Amy said. “Got any preferences? June says jersey knits for dorm sheets are really in right now.”

Marcus cocked his head at her.

“What? I don’t want to sleep with no knitting cows.”

Amy sighed deeply. “It’s a kind of fabric. Here--”

She unzipped one of the sheet packages so Marcus could feel the fabric.

She waited for him to give an opinion, but he just shrugged.

“Well, would you rather have this, or normal cotton sheets?”

More shrugging.

Ugh. If he kept this up, they’d be shopping all day. Maybe into tomorrow.

A brightly-colored package caught her eye. It was a twin size, for kids. Teal with neon dinosaurs printed all over it. She waved at Marcus to push the cart closer, and when he did, she reached out and knocked the sheet set into the cart.

It landed at her feet with a solid  _ thwack _ .

“The heck are you doing?” Marcus said, leaning over to pick up the package. When he saw what it was, his face cracked into a smile.

“Well, if you aren’t going to make any decisions,” Amy retorted, “I’ll make them for you.”

“Actually, I like this a lot. I loved dinosaurs when I was I kid. Still kind of do.”

“Well, put it back in the cart and choose a second set. You’ll need at least two so you can wash the first one.”

Before she could finish, he had turned the package over and was staring at the price tag with a glazed expression.

Amy grabbed the sheet set and put it back in the cart by her feet.

“Don’t worry about it. I pestered HR until they gave you an allowance for school and dorm supplies--because I can do that now,” she added proudly, still amazed at the kind of authority she had with her job. “It’s the least they can do after taking you from your family and keeping you in the labs for the past six months.”

She expected him to turn down the money and ask to be taken back to the Triskelion.

Instead, he walked over the rows and rows of packaged sheet sets, picked out a royal blue jersey knit, and handed it to Amy.

“I like this color,” he told her.

“Me too! Let’s see if they have any more dorm stuff that looks like that.”

With that in mind, they found color-coordinated throw pillows, a comforter, and bath towels. Along the way, the cart got too cramped for Amy to sit there with all that stuff, so Marcus helped her get out.

While they were looking for a desk lamp, they were accosted by a red-shirted employee who looked close to Marcus’ age.

“Yes, actually,” Amy replied when he asked if he could help. She asked about the desk lamps, and he began to lead them toward the right aisle.

“Looking for dorm supplies so early?” The employee looked surprised.

“Summer classes,” Marcus said at the same time Amy countered with, “Back-to-school sales start earlier every year.”

If the Target worker was confused, he didn’t drop his customer service smile until after he left them in the aisle they needed.

After they found a cheap-looking but color-coordinating desk lamp and put it in the basket, Marcus suddenly stood up straight, his eyes widening into discs.

“Okay, what did we forget?” Amy asked with a sigh.

“We need to go find that Target dude!”

Amy just looked at him.

“Where are those sticky hook things for dorm walls?”

He grabbed the corner of the shopping cart and looked like he was going to take off running, Amy in tow, to tackle the Target employee.

“You don’t need those!” Amy laughed.

“Look, everybody gets sticky hooks when they go off to live in a dorm. It’s a fact of college, like redbull and frat parties.”

“First of all, none of those things are facts of college,” said Amy, shaking her head. “And, realistically,  are you actually going to bother to hang things up? Because you've seen how tidy I am, and I sure did not need them in college.”

“You? Not hang things up?” Marcus feigned shock and surprise, but he was also smirking.

“Learn the art of the bed-to-desk laundry shuffle, grasshopper. It will save you so much time.”

He thought for a minute.

“Okay, but what about towels? Because a couple people I talked to who went to the Academy said the dorm bathrooms didn’t have towel racks.”

“Oh.” Amy considered for a moment. “Well, in that case, you’ll need a sticky hook.”

Marcus took off before she could change her mind and was back in two minutes with a sticky hook, two (2) packages of replacement adhesive, and the Target employee.

“Always wanted to get these,” Marcus rambled as he set the packages in the cart next to Amy. “It’s like, a rite of passage or something. I’m really going away to school. Like, for real.”

Amy smiled, but the Target kid just looked bored.

“Can I help you guys find anything else?” he asked.

Amy looked over at Marcus, who gave her a blank stare. Now that he’d found the sticky hooks he wanted, he wasn’t sure what else he needed.

“Um,” she began. “I don’t think so. We’re ready to pick up a few kitchen supplies, and that should be it.”

“Speaking of kitchen supplies,” the employee said, turning to Marcus, “is your aunt maybe interested in getting you a personal blender? They’re really in for college students right now, and I can recommend a couple good ones.”

Marcus looked confused for a moment, trying to figure out what the guy was talking about.

“She’s not my aunt.”

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, giving Amy a please-don’t-get-me-fired look. “I guess I assumed, you know, you seem like his...responsible adult supervision. And you definitely don’t look old enough to be his mom, so I went with aunt.”

“No, definitely not old enough,” Amy said at the same time Marcus was saying, “Dude, we’re not even related.”

And then Amy tried, “I’m his...librarian?”

“Right,” replied the employee, resuming the air of someone who could survive anything happening on his shift, up to and including the apocalypse.

The kitchen stuff was, as Amy had assumed, a breeze. They picked up a plate, cup, bowl, and a set of silverware, plus Amy insisted on getting dish soap and a sponge, even though all of this made Marcus roll his eyes. He’d heard good things about the Academy cafeteria and kept repeating that he’d probably eat all his meals there anyway.

“Just go with it,” Amy said, waving the plate in his direction. “You’ll thank me later.”

Once they finished with the kitchen supplies, Marcus started tugging on the cart.

“Where are we going?” Amy asked him. “I think we’re just about finished here.”

He looked puzzled. “Don’t I need notebooks and stuff? I mean, Ops is all about training us to be field agents, but I’ve heard there’s some book work, too.”

“Oh, don’t think I haven’t thought about school supplies. I was just planning to take you to the Staples across the parking lot.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You just want to look at office supplies, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Marcus laughed at her, but his eyes widened when they walked into Staples and were faced with aisle after aisle of every kind of notebook, paper clip, and writing implement imaginable.

He took a deep breath.

“Mmm...smells like administration,” he said with a grin.

Amy took advantage of his distraction to snag a shopping cart and start walking. There would be no riding around in the cart here. It might have been fun for a few minutes in Target, but office supplies were serious business and required her full attention.

They picked out a couple package of mechanical pencils and highlighters, plus a few pens for good measure, and Amy made sure to add plenty of index cards to the cart.

“You’ll need these,” she emphasized, looking Marcus in the eye and holding out the cards. “Good for study notes.”

He smirked.

“You know I’ve been to high school, right? I know what to do with index cards.”

“Sorry...sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m in mom friend mode again, aren’t I?”

He nodded.

“The real question is,” she said, gesturing for him to take control of the cart, “do you prefer folders, notebooks, or binders?”

They were on their way to look for binders when Marcus came to a standstill in front of a display of notebooks.

“Oh my gosh, do you know how rare this is?” he breathed, reaching out to touch a black notebook with Agent Romanoff’s hourglass symbol on it. Beside it was a matching notebook featuring a photoshopped pic of Black Widow kicking a Chitauri creature. 

Amy grabbed one of each. “I’m sure you’ll find a use for these. Black Widow merch is so hard to find.”

As she put the notebooks in the basket for him, he tapped her lightly on the head with a third notebook. When she looked up, he held it up for her to see.

It was a Captain America collage, with some vintage-style photographs layered underneath a sketch of Steve holding out the shield, all in sepia tones.

“Amy, you  _ need _ this!”

“Yes, I do,” she said, snatching it out of his hands.

“You know,” he began as they continued toward the aisle with binders, “I still haven’t met him.”

“I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing. At least he won’t try to feed you vintage jello salad,” she joked.

He snorted. By now, that story had gone through the grapevine at the Triskelion--although not everyone believed it. The thought of Captain America learning how to make weird dishes from the 1950s was just, well...a little hard to swallow.

“Hey, he wouldn’t have brought all that gross stuff if he weren’t trying to impress you.”

Marcus’ voice was serious, but mischief glinted in his eyes.

“What?!”

He snorted at her bewildered expression. “Well, maybe not you specifically. But he definitely likes you guys, and he wants to make a good impression.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “You think so?”

He threw an arm around her shoulder and laughed.

“For a librarian, you’re not all that perceptive, are you?”

She glared at him until he moved away and leaned against the cart instead.

“Really?” he tried again. “Look, he comes in the first time and meets this kickbutt librarian queen, and yeah, maybe things are a little awkward at first, but you’re super respectful and obviously a big Cap fan, so you totally own that meeting. And he comes away thinking ‘Oh my gosh, that woman is a kickbutt librarian queen.’”

Amy laughed. “Shut up!”

But he shrugged and kept going.

“And you know, he’s still getting used to the 21st century, and he’s missing all his 1940s buddies, and maybe he hasn’t made any friends here yet. Like, sure, there are the Avengers, but everybody’s so different, and each one has a different idea about how to live their lives, right?”

Suddenly the things he was saying began to fit together in Amy’s mind. She nodded.

“So he meets these super cool librarians, and he likes them. Why not do everything he can to make friends?” Marcus finished, hands outstretched.

“You know,” Amy said, shoving him lightly, “You’re kinda perceptive...for a meatball.”

“Hey!”

“But seriously,” she continued. “I’m not sure you two should meet.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s enough that I already have two impulsive supersoldiers with hero complexes in my life. I don’t need you two ganging up on me.”

He guffawed and began turning the cart down the next aisle, and she had to pick up speed to catch up with him.

“With my luck, you two would decide jumping off heights without a parachute could be a team sport!”

“It can’t?” he asked, winking.

She growled. She’d have a fit if anything happened to those two. Either of them.

By now, they were walking down the last aisle of the store, past shelves of snacks and coffee and paper towels. She put a hand on the cart to slow him down.

“So do you need to bring the microwave or the mini fridge?” she asked.

He stopped and looked at her like she’d just asked him to explain Asgardian mathematics.

“You did talk with your roommate about that, right?” she tried again. “Usually one roommate brings the fridge and the other brings the microwave.”

He was still staring.

“I didn’t even know we needed those things,” he said at last, rubbing his head with exasperation. “Dang, getting ready for school is hard.”

She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Yeah, tell me about it. Although in my case, I was a little over-prepared. When I first went off to college, I freaked out and packed enough toiletries for the whole school year--toothpaste, deodorant, even toilet paper. Turns out, one of the girls who lived across the hall from me had a car and would have been happy to take me to Walmart once in a while.”

He laughed. “That totally sounds like something you would do.”

“Okay, but really. Please tell me you’ve at least talked with your roommate.”

“I think...his name is...Trevor?” Marcus stammered.

She groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, well, we only have a few days before we have to take you to the Academy. You need to get in touch with him today and let me know what the plan is, and I’ll see if I can pick something up before we leave on Friday.”

“Sure, sure,” he said before pausing and looking up at her with fresh astonishment. “Wait, you’re taking me to the Academy?”

She nodded.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been planning on it. I’m even taking Friday off so we can go up early enough to get you settled in before dinnertime. That is--I mean--if it’s okay with you.” She searched his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Unless you’d rather have someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. take you. Which is fine. I’m sure they’d be better at loading and unloading your stuff than I would, anyway.”

But would they know how to organize dorm equipment? Would they know how to rearrange the furniture in Marcus’s room to optimize floor space? Would they give him tips on meals he could cook in the microwave? Would they fuss over him until he pushed them away with a laugh and then promised to text at least once a week? Would they have to turn up the radio on the drive home to fill up the empty space that he’d left behind?

“Stop.” He was smiling. “Why wouldn’t I want you to take me?”

Because I’m not cool, she wanted to say. Because we don’t actually have that much in common. Because it’s weird when we hang out, because people think I’m your aunt and maybe that’s weird for you. Because I don’t know what you’ve been moping about for the past few weeks, and I don’t know how to ask. Because I don’t know how to make your life better.

Because, when everything is said and done, you’re not my kid.

But she didn’t say any of those things. To her embarrassment, she realized she was just kind of...gaping.

She shut her mouth.

“Come on, lady!” Marcus teased. “What else are librarians for?”


	4. Chapter 4

_Day 1_

Cora glanced over at Lily, who was contentedly sifting through a box of canceled checks from the 1960s.

June had left already; she was going to New York for a networking opportunity that would hopefully gain the library a valuable new collection or two, and then she had a two-week course in manuscript preservation.

So, with her boss away, Cora had fifteen (15) days to:

  1. Make progress on her own current project, which happened to be filing some blueprints of past helicarrier technology
  2. Help any agents who needed access to materials in Special Collections
  3. Monitor said agents to make sure said materials didn’t turn up damaged or missing
  4. Mind her very own intern.



It was a lot of responsibility for a librarian who had finished her degree only six months ago.

At least she felt like she had #4 under control.

Lily seemed mature because she rarely said much. She was a quick learner who never asked questions, just seemed to pick up on what to do instinctively, and when Cora asked how she was doing or if she needed help, she usually just responded with a “meh,” or an “eh,” or a shrug.

Despite the nonchalant attitude, Lily dove into her work with a focus that was almost scary.

Cora loved working in Special Collections. She loved the feel of the old papers in her hand, the sensation of putting them in file folders, arranging the folders in crisp new archival boxes, and sliding the boxes into just the right spot on the shelf. But even she had her limits. There was only so much you could get from sifting through old financial records.

Apparently, Lily didn’t think so. She peeled off remnants of dried rubber bands and rusty paper clips, flipped through each stack of checks, and sorted them into piles as enthusiastically as if they’d been Agent Carter’s personal papers.

It could have been Lily’s music that made her look so intense. She’d asked early on if she could listen to her iPod while she did processing, which was fine, of course. It wasn’t like Lily was going to be working with agents, and Cora and June often listened to music together in the processing room when they knew they weren’t likely to be interrupted.

Cora and June shared musical tastes--when Special Collections had no visitors, Cora played indie bands and soft jazz on her phone. Good music to keep their minds on the files they were sorting or books and documents they were mending.

It was so quiet in the processing room without June around. Cora wondered what kind of music Lily was listening to, and if she’d be willing to share.

Just then, Lily looked over at her questioningly, and Cora realized she had been staring.

“How’s it going?” She figured she should probably say something.

Lily removed an earbud.

“Whaa--?”

Cora sighed at herself. “I said, how are you doing over there?”

“Just peachy,” Lily mumbled.

Suddenly, her gaze drifted toward the blueprint on the desk in front of Cora, and her eyes lit up with interest.

“Whatcha got there?” She dropped the stray earbud, letting it traipse down the right side of her neon yellow cardigan.

Cora felt herself swell with pride. She happened to be working on designs for the very first helicarrier ever produced, almost ten years ago. It didn’t have a lot of the technology that the current model had, like cloaking, and it wasn’t amphibious, but it was still pretty cool.

Lily seemed to think so, too. She wandered over from the other end of the table to take a look.

“They really let you touch this stuff?” she asked when Cora had pointed out some of the major features of the design.

“Well...yeah.”

It really was cool. Cora couldn’t believe her luck at getting a job with S.H.I.E.L.D., let alone getting to work with such interesting archival material. When she graduated from library school, she’d worried about even getting a job at all.

“Um.” Lily gazed at the blueprint with envy written all over her face. “Can I touch it, too?”

Cora smiled, restraining herself from laughing at the intern’s rare show of enthusiasm.

“Sure, why not.”

Lily reached out, and just in time, Cora noticed the grime from the financial records all over Lily’s hands. Those checks and bank statements had been sitting in June’s archive for years, and before that, they’d been collecting dust, bugs, and who-knows-what in someone’s garage for much longer. She could pretty much see Lily’s fingerprint outlined in dirt from here.

“But, um,” Cora said quickly enough to stop her. “Maybe wash your hands first.”

The hand withdrew, and Cora breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Meh, sure,” Lily agreed. She leaned closer to the desk to get one last look at the document before leaving to wash her hands in the bathroom.

As she did, Cora heard some strains from Lily’s loose earbud and tried to listen more closely.

Really loud clashing metal and wailing guitar chords drifted from the earbud. And something else...screaming?

So Lily listened to metal and screamo.

Well. Cora wasn’t one to judge. She also wasn’t going to ask her intern to share her music anytime soon.

  


_Day 3_

“Right.” Cora rose from the processing table with a yawn, stretched, and began to consider what she needed to do to wrap things up before closing for the weekend.

Lily popped out an earbud, and the grating metallic din of her music pierced the silence of their peaceful work area.

“That time already?” she asked without looking up, neatly labeling a file folder as she spoke.

“Yep, I’m almost finished with these blueprints, too. Maybe I’ll get to finish them on Monday, if nobody needs me.”

Dealing with agents and analysts had kept her on her toes more often than she’d expected. Yesterday, she’d had to retrieve a crap ton of documents from Special Collections for one particular analyst who asked for everything from declassified files of Cold War-era missions to information about what Director Fury’s predecessor ate for breakfast.

Well, maybe not that specific, but couldn’t make sense out of what the analyst was looking for. All she did was run around and retrieve files from this box and that shelf and the filing cabinet farthest from the door on the right.

Lily had been a godsend. About an hour into Cora’s dealings with the analyst, she had been elbow-deep in a filing cabinet, muttering every cuss word she could think of, when the intern had appeared at her elbow and asked what she could do to help.

Sending Lily to retrieve files was good practice for her internship, but it was also a huge help on such a busy day.

And, she had to admit, there was something magical about the way Lily handled the files.

Sure, she didn’t know everything there was to know about finding and retrieving information, and Cora had had to walk her through the process a few times. But Lily held every photograph and every memo as if it had been the most valuable piece of information in the S.H.I.E.L.D. archive. She opened every blue storage box as if it could hold some kind of treasure.

“Everything going okay with your project?” Cora asked just now.

Lily grunted but left the earbud dangling with no sign of putting it back in. Cora decided she was going to take that as permission to keep talking.

“Okay, well, I’m going to clean things up here while you get to a stopping place.”

She shuffled the last few blueprints into a neater pile and set them aside, then placed the storage boxes she’d filled that day onto a rolling book cart and pushed it into an out-of-the-way corner.

During the week, she didn’t mind leaving her projects out in the open so she could pick up where she left off the next morning, but she and June had gotten into the habit of cleaning off the processing table every Friday. It made for a fresh start on Monday mornings, when your head was clearer and you could rethink your process.

Besides, who knew what this Monday would bring? Not the same nosy analyst, she hoped.

As she started picked up her pencils, she looked over at Lily, who was sliding the last financial record of the day into a folder. The earbud was still out.

“So,” Cora tried. “Any fun plans for the weekend?”

Lily looked up.

“Oh. Well, actually, I was going to ask you about that.”

The other earbud was out; the iPod was being put away. This must be serious. What was Lily going to ask?

“Can I dye my hair?”

Lily was looking at her with an enthusiasm that she’d only reserved for the contents of Special Collections so far.

“Um,” said Cora, wanting to say yes, feeling like she was looking at a begging puppy. “What color are you thinking of dying it?”

“Oh! Red. I found the most gorgeous shade I’ve ever seen, and Heidi promised to help me with it.”

Inwardly, Cora sighed with relief. She hadn’t said something outlandish, like green or purple. The A.C.C.E.S.S. dress code was a little fuzzy on hair coloring, and Cora didn’t want to get in trouble for approving something that a lot of people still saw as unprofessional.

Still, red would look good on Lily. Maybe a nice auburn? Cora had thought of doing something with her own hair once or twice, but she’d never been brave enough. Her hair was the same shade of brown as Lily’s, just a little lighter. Maybe she’d do it sometime.

“I don’t see why not,” she began.

“Great!” Lily interrupted, shoving her archival storage box into Cora’s hands and leaving the processing room as fast as she could.

Cora began to wonder if she had made a mistake.

  


_Day 4_

Lily’s hair was red. Not copper. _Red_.

“Help,” Cora texted Amy once Lily had settled down at the processing table. “I made a tactical error.”

“In my office if you need to talk,” Amy replied after a few seconds.

“Coming your way with knitting.”

Cora grabbed her shawl-in-progress from her totebag, made an excuse to Lily (who shrugged), and headed for Amy’s office.

Once inside, she unfurled her needles and began knitting like her job depended on it.

Amy looked up. “Is this a knitting-related tactical error, or something else?”

Cora stabbed a needle through a loop. It helped to knit, to keep her hands busy, when her mind was hopelessly tangled.

Wordlessly, Amy opened the bottom drawer of her desk and retrieved the dishcloth she was working on.

After a few moments of silent knitting, Cora felt like she had sorted out her thoughts enough to try to explain.

“Oh,” said Amy. “Oh my.”

“Can the interns do that? Can _we_ do that?” Cora asked.

Amy had no idea. She’d never considered dying her own hair, and so far the issue hadn’t come up with the other staff members.

“I think we need to call for backup,” she said, reaching for her phone and dialing June’s cell. She switched the phone to speaker so Cora could get in on the conversation, too.

“Hey, good morning!” June’s voice chirped on the other end of the line.

“We have a bit of a predicament over here,” Amy blurted. “Do you have a minute, or is this a bad time?”

“No, we’re on a coffee break. Just let me-- _excuse me, I’ll be right back_ ,” she added to whoever she was sharing coffee with. “Okay, what’s up?”

Amy and Cora tag-team shared the situation.

“Okay?” June said at last.

Cora clicked her needles. “We just weren’t sure if this was appropriate for a workplace setting. I mean, it’s really all my fault. I should have made sure we were talking about red as in the natural hair color, not red as in Ronald McDonald.”

June laughed. “I mean, the dress code for civilian employees is a little fuzzy on hair colors, so I think you’re all fine. Just because you don’t see other people with dyed hair at the Triskelion doesn’t mean it’s banned or anything. It’s just. Different.”

“Okay.” Amy still sounded unconvinced.

“Look,” June continued. “You haven’t met Agent Hand yet, have you?”

Amy and Cora both shook their heads, forgetting June couldn’t see them.

“She’s one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. higher-ups, and she has red streaks in her hair right now. Looks really cool, actually. I’m sure Lily’s does, too. Maybe they’ll start a trend.”

“Hey,” said a new voice at the office door. It was Ryan, his face aglow with mischief and excitement. “Does this mean I can have purple hair?”

June’s laugh crackled over the phone.

Amy opened her mouth and shut it again before opting for a helpless grin.

Setting her knitting down in her lap, Cora turned to look at him. “Well, I guess so.”

 

_Day 6_

Cora’s Top Five Least Favorite Things About Her Job:

  1. Using the photocopier



These days, she usually just avoided the machine, which was in the hallway that separated the processing room from the catalogers’ lair. Lily had proven herself more adept with the copier than pretty much anyone else on staff at A.C.C.E.S.S., so Cora had been shuffling patrons who asked for paper copies of documents off on her. She felt a little guilty about it at first, but Lily lit up like a jack-o-lantern when she asked her to make copies.

  1. Finding gross old office supplies while processing



She’d heard stories about the kinds of things archivists found while sorting through old documents--dead bugs, a mole carcass, even human finger bones. As weird as it sounded, she was mentally prepared to deal with stuff like that and had even imagined what it would be like to find something weird or gross enough to tell stories about later. What she wasn’t prepared to deal with was the old, rusty paperclips and staples she found in a lot of the documents she processed. She might not be afraid of getting her hands dirty, but she really didn’t want to get tetanus.

  1. Spending most of the day retrieving documents for patrons instead of working on her own projects.



Argh.

  1. Answering the phone for June while she was gone.



Her boss’s office was creepy enough when she was here; she almost always left the light off and relied on the natural light from the window. It was even weirder to walk into that darkened office every time the phone rang, still somehow expecting to see June at her desk. Plus, the people who called asking for June didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t going to be back the next morning, or even later that day. For the fifth time, Margaret from the Smithsonian, June will be able to return your call after the 24th!

  1. Roger Costa.



Cora didn’t even want to think about that one. Nope. Not today.

  
_Day 7_

Ok, fine. She was going to have to think about it.

Somehow Roger managed to drop by the processing room at least once a day, usually to complain about how the archivists needed to get more work done so he could do more cataloging in Special Collections (as if the catalogers weren’t still working on the entire main collection!) or to ask if Lily could fix the copier (which he probably broke himself).

Somehow, whatever his original excuse was, he always managed to pull up a chair at the processing table and make himself at home, complaining about everything from the interns he was supervising to the temperature of the AC.

Yesterday, he was there for two (2!) hours.

When he finally left, Lily and Cora looked at each other and sighed.

“I think we need to treat ourselves to a nice long coffee break,” Cora said.

Today, as Roger pulled an extra chair to one end of the table and sat down, Lily took out both earbuds and glared at him. Cora left hers in. Both were signs of annoyance from the archivists, but Roger didn’t take the hint.

“Hey, whatcha listening to?”

“Vance Joy.” She didn’t even look up.

He leaned back in his chair as if he expected to be there a while. “That’s a good choice, but you know, I happen to prefer--”

“Look,” Cora said, trying to keep her voice level. “Did you come here for a reason aside from insulting my music? Because if not, I suggest you get back to cataloging.”

It was harsh for Cora, who usually put up with other people’s nonsense, who laughed at jokes that weren’t funny, who spent all day answering her boss’s phone and helping demanding analysts.

But Lily was there, watching Roger, watching Cora, with even, gray eyes, and somehow that helped Cora find her backbone. She was so tired of listening to Roger complain.

“Oh.” His expression was less hurt than surprised. “I apologize. I’ll--I’ll just let you ladies get back to work.”

With that, he scooted out of his chair, returned it neatly to its spot next to Lily, and left the room without another word.

Cora gripped the edge of the table and grinned at Lily.

“He’s gone,” she mouthed.

Lily stared thoughtfully at Cora. “We don’t like Roger, do we?”

Cora thought about saying, _He has an abrasive personality, but he means well_ . She considered, _He’s a valuable asset to our staff. He’s the best cataloger I’ve ever met._

All of these things were true, but what she actually said was:

“No. No, we don’t.”

 

_Day 8_

Roger didn’t venture into Special Collections the day after that, but he did come in, hesitantly and holding a stack full of papers. He didn’t even look at Cora, who was returning some documents to the filing cabinets.

“Hey, Lily. Could you--”

“NO.”

When Lily kept shoving folder after folder into the archival box without an explanation, Roger shut his mouth and left.

The door in between the processing room shut behind him, but Lily and Cora could still hear exasperated beeping from the copier paired with Roger’s muffled swearing as he tried to work the machine on his own.

 

_Day 11_

The next time Roger invaded Special Collections, Cora was on the phone in June’s office. It was all the way on the other side of Special Collections proper, on the wall adjoining Restricted Files, so she couldn’t make out what was being said, but the sound of Roger’s voice still carried across the way. It made her sit up straighter.

“No, Margaret, she still hasn’t come back yet,” she said. From what she could tell, the woman on the other end, a curator at the Smithsonian, was a nice enough person, but she couldn’t seem to understand that a two-week course lasted for...well...two weeks.

While she half-listened to Margaret’s reply, Cora strained her ears to see if she could make out what was going on in the processing room.

Nothing.

She certainly couldn’t hear Lily’s mumbling all the way over here.

“She’ll be back on Monday,” Cora tried again. “Look, is there anything I can help you with? If you’re interested in a particular document, I could find it for you.”

Just in case, she reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

“ARGH,” yelled Lily, loud and clear from the other room.

The pen slipped from Cora’s fingers and bounded across the desk. She lunged for it, knocking aside a stack of papers and a photograph of a smiling June with an older woman who looked like her grandmother.

Cora must have wheezed into the phone when her stomach collided with the desk, because Margaret asked, “You okay over there, honey?”

“Ah...yes. Sorry about that. You were saying?” Cora gave up on the pen, sat back in her chair, and tried to compose herself. She was definitely not thinking about whatever was going on in the processing room.

“Just that I can wait until your head archivist comes back. Be sure to have her call me next week, okay?”

Cora took down the woman’s number again (just to be safe) before wishing her a nice day and hanging up.

Two other sticky notes with Margaret’s phone number at the Smithsonian were on June’s desk, waiting for her to get back. Cora lined them up next to each other along the edge of the computer keyboard. They were all hot pink, so June should definitely notice them.

As she did so, heavy footsteps sounded up to the office door. Cora was expecting Roger, but it was Lily who stomped into the room and triumphantly flung a paper onto the desk for her to see.

“Oh my god, Lily, what did you do?” She reached for the paper to take a closer look.

It was quite fuzzy, mostly blurs of black and harsh white, but it was definitely a photocopy of Roger’s face.

“We are in so much trouble,” Cora said after a while.

Lily wrinkled her snub nose in dismay. “But I’m the one who did it. You’re not responsible.”

“ _I’m_ responsible for _you_ , you...little...blueberry!”

They both laughed, and then Cora sighed. “I’m going to go talk with Amy before this gets out of hand.”

“Okay.” Lily shrugged. “While you do that, I’m going to make backup copies of this.”

She snatched the paper back before Cora could move it out of the way.

“What...what are you going to do with them?”

“I’m going to hang them up around the library!”

“LILY, NO.”

 

_Day 12_

Amy made appointments with each of them for the following day. Basically, it was like getting called into the principal’s office but with an entire day to stew about it.

Well, Cora stewed. Lily went about her business with her usual nonchalance. Neither of them saw much of Roger (thank goodness!), but Cora knew him well enough to picture him fidgeting at his desk.

The mental image wasn’t worth the stress that she felt herself, and actually, she felt a little sorry for him. It wasn’t like he’d _done_ anything. She could have asked him nicely to leave them alone and left him like that. He wasn’t the kind of person who would keep coming back if he knew it bothered them.

“Well?” she asked Lily when the intern came back from Amy’s office.

Lily shrugged and said “Eh,” before burying herself in another pile of canceled checks.

Cora was the last of the three to meet with Amy. At 3:30, she excused herself and walked across the reading room to Amy’s office.

She wasn’t really paying attention to where she was going, just kind of looking at the ground and trying to keep her nerves under control. When she reached the office door, she casually glanced up to find that Amy was already staring at her. She jumped.

“Aah!”

“Come on in, and close the door behind you,” Amy said, her face unreadable.

Cora did, and perched on the chair opposite the big desk.

“Sorry, I just…”

“It’s okay. No knitting this time?” Amy offered.

Cora realized she was trying to be reassuring and settled in her chair a little more. She shook her head.

“Well, I want you to know you’re not in trouble,” Amy said again. “I’ve spoken with Roger and Lily, and I just wanted to follow up with you to make sure everybody’s on the same page. They’re going to leave each other alone--”

Cora sighed with relief.

“--but I want to get your perspective on how all this started,” Amy finished.

“Well, Roger’s been hanging around Special Collections a lot lately, and I might have snapped at him. And then Lily kind of picked up where I left off, I think.”

Amy’s head snapped up, and she looked Cora in the eyes.

“He’s been bothering you? Is there anything I need to know about?”

Amy’s concern surprised her. It wasn’t that she thought Amy was the kind of person who wouldn’t look out for her employees; it was that she’d never worked for someone who worried about her safety like that.

“Oh, no...not really. He’s just been complaining about everything, nothing in particular. Just complaining. It’s distracting. I have a hard time focusing when he’s there.”

Amy nodded. “I know his personality can be a little...abrasive, but he’s very good at his job, and usually very professional.”

“Yeah, I know.” Cora frowned and adjusted her position on the chair.

“And I’m still just getting to know all of you, so I could be wrong, but Roger strikes me as the kind of person who would back off if you let him know he was bothering you.”

Cora started to say something, but Amy kept going: “But if not, you know you can always come to me about stuff like that. Or to June. Since she’s your actual boss, and I’m just filling in. Either of us will definitely hear you out if something like that happens, though, so don’t be afraid to say something.”

She’d thought she was going to get in trouble for not preventing the photocopier incident and that Amy would blame her for losing her temper and not talking to Roger first. She wasn’t expecting this.

It was a little overwhelming.

“What about Lily?” was all she could think to say.

“Oh, Lily will be fine. She explained her point of view already. Basically, she thinks you’re the coolest person she’s ever met, and she feels really loyal to you. So when she found out that you don’t really like Roger, she made it her mission to keep him out of Special Collections.”

“That’s weird. She’s weird. Like, she’s a good worker and it’s been nice to have her around, but she’s weird.”

Amy chuckled at her reaction and nodded slightly before resuming her serious expression.

“That’s part of being a manager, though. Learning how to deal with people’s weirdness and, sometimes, use it to advantage. Right now, your mission is to keep Lily out of trouble.”

“Uh-huh, okay.” Cora nodded. She could certainly try.

“Oh, and Cora?”

“Yeah?”

“Try to keep her from physically harming anyone.”

Cora looked at Amy for a minute, confused.

“Why would she do that?”

“Well.” Amy shifted and glanced down at her desk. “We know that Lily has a bit of a temper. And she and I both belong to the local chapter of this medievalist group. Mostly I go for the dancing and the costumes, but Lily does heavy fighting.”

“What?”

“She whacks people. With sticks. For fun.” Amy grinned broadly. “And I should probably mention, she’s pretty good at it.”

Cora leaned back in her chair.

“At this point, I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

 

_Day 15_

Lily emerged from the storage closet, earbuds in hand

Reluctantly, Cora looked up from the processing table where she had been backing one of the damaged blueprints with linen. It was a messy job and she didn’t want to be interrupted, but if Lily had taken both her earbuds out, something was either very wrong or about to be wrong.

“What did you do with the legal-size boxes?” Lily’s tone wasn’t confrontational, but her expression was frustrated, and the fist that was clutching the earbuds was planted firmly on one hip.

“I...didn’t do anything with the boxes,” Cora insisted. “Want me to help you look for them?”

“No! There were five of them in here yesterday, and I only need one more. Now they’re all gone.”

Cora smoothed the blueprint one last time and drifted toward the storage closet to look for herself. Sure enough, the spot where the archival boxes had been was now empty.

“Darn,” she breathed. “I thought we’d have enough to last us until June got back and ordered more. I’m not really sure how to do that yet.”

“I guess I can work on something else…”

Something about Lily’s stubborn frown told Cora that she still didn’t believe her.

“Well, don’t look at me! I’ve been working with those blueprints since lunch, and before that I spent all morning helping an analyst sift through Cold War records for references to Belarus.”

Lily shrugged. “If you say so. I’m gonna get some coffee before starting a different project.”

Cora returned to her blueprints. Not long after she heard the door slam heavily behind Lily, a voice by her shoulder caught her off guard.

“So, we’re out of legal-sized boxes, huh?”

“Aah!” She jumped, sloshing adhesive on the table.

It was June. Her delight at startling Cora quickly evaporated when she saw the spreading pool of goo.

“Here, let’s clean that up.” She darted over to the sink, which was stationed just inside the processing area to encourage visitors and librarians to wash their hands before and after touching the archival materials, and returned with a damp rag.

“I thought you weren’t coming back until Monday,” Cora protested, still confused.

“Nope!” June wiped up the glue without looking at her. “I drove home last night.”

“So...you’ve been here all morning?”

“Oh, pretty much. I’ve spent most of it straightening things up in Restricted Files, but I was through here earlier to check emails. I was going to say hi to you two, but Lily was super focused and you were busy helping someone out--which you were handling very well, by the way.”

Cora narrowed her eyes. “Wait! Were _you_ the one who used up all the boxes?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I mean,” Cora backtracked, “it’s definitely ok for you to use the boxes. It’s not like you work here too or anything.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ll let me use the boxes even if I have to face the wrath of Lily.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Cora laughed. “Did Amy tell you about that? Wait, you’ve talked with Amy already today but not me?”

“No, honey...she called me after she met with you the other day. She might seem cool as a cucumber, but the whole situation had her a little shaken. You too, sounds like.”

“Oh…” She decided to change the subject instead of feeling silly. “So how was your workshop?”

By now, June had pitched in and was helping Cora arrange another blueprint on the linen.

“It was great! Lots of new information. I should be able to repair and rehouse some of those spycraft books in the SSR collection now.”

Cora nodded, distracted.

“Hey,” June continued, “I saw all those post-it reminders you left me on my desk. Margaret from the Smithsonian, right?”

“Yeah, you need to call her back.”

June laughed, not unkindly. “Listen. Didn’t they teach you about benevolent neglect in your archives classes?”

Huh. Cora set down her brush, trying to remember. “That’s when you leave something alone temporarily and cross your fingers that it won’t deteriorate much further?”

“Yeah, something like that. Sometimes you just gotta leave something for a while to work on other stuff.”

“I...don’t think you can apply that to real life.” Cora narrowed her eyes. “You just don’t want to call her back, do you?”

June grinned. “Trust me, it can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Moose for inspiration for Lily and some of the incidents in this chapter. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens right after the events of [ Superhuman Resources, chapter 1. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017705/chapters/18355465) Yes, it's early July in the Librariansverse, and as we got a freak snowstorm in my corner of the world today, I'm a little jealous.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Steve demanded.

June had expected him to seek her out at the library first thing after Amy’s Fourth of July party, when she first allowed him to meet her, but she’d also thought Mr. American Charm would be a little more polite. A “hey, how are you?” would have been nice. Or a “gee whiz, it sure was swell to finally meet you.”

“It’s...not my birthday,” she said, a little annoyed.

“No, not today. I meant...Amy’s party.” He floundered and ran a hand through his ridiculously perfect hair. “Everybody knew it was my birthday, but it was yours, too.”

He must’ve Facebook-stalked her after the party to find out more about the librarian who’d been avoiding him the past few months. Adorable.

“No, it wasn’t.” She grinned, savoring his flustered response. Nice to know that the national golden boy wasn’t immune to her hijinks.

It was going to take her a while to get used to having him around, though. She had excused herself from Amy’s party early, even for her, retreating to her apartment upstairs with a stress-induced stomach ache. 

Internalizing her fear had come naturally to her, like it did to most women forced to be in danger on the regular, but it wasn’t like she enjoyed the side effects.

She still wasn’t keen on the fact that Steve was making himself a fixture at A.C.C.E.S.S., but she’d had some time to think about it when she was away at the manuscripts class. Surely any person who was so wrapped up in his own past wouldn’t spend much time poking his nose into hers.

Might as well try to befriend him, like the other librarians seemed to be doing. It would make Amy happy. Plus, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy...and lonely. She didn’t like thinking about the time she found him crying over Director Carter’s and Sergeant Barnes’ old records.

So she decided to help him out.

“My birthday was the 3rd. What were you going to do, give me a card? Nobody got you anything.”

“Nobody needs to get me anything when an entire country sets off fireworks to celebrate my birthday,” he shot back.

She smirked appreciatively, wondering if Amy had discovered the depths of his smart-alleckry yet, although it was hard to miss with his constant gifts of horrifying vintage foods. The red-white-and-blue pretzel jello salad he’d made for the party had been truly repulsive.

Just then, Karla walked by, did a double take, and came back.

“Wait, you two are talking?” she asked.

They both looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“I mean, I know you met at Amy’s party, but Imma need to hear how that went down, ‘cause I had to leave early.”

Stars-and-Stripes looked at June. She shrugged.

“Well, I offered to help!” he whined, more to June than to Karla.

“Oh, really,” said June with a laugh.

“So I came in time to help set out the food, and this one,” he said, tilting his head in June’s direction, “was putting a jar of pickles on the table. Naturally, I offered to help.”

“ _ Naturally _ .” June rolled her eyes.

“And  _ she  _ said--”

“--that I was perfectly capable of opening it myself, thank you very much.”

“You did not,” Freedom Face sputtered.

“Duuuuude,” Karla wheezed. “Spill!”

By now they’d collected a few of the other librarians and interns who had just so casually dropped by to join the conversation. The star-spangled nuisance had an audience, and he could not be more pleased about it. 

“Well. She gave me this stare.” He lowered his eyebrows and looked sternly at each of them for effect.

_ Showoff _ . June rolled her eyes.

“And then,” he continued, throwing her a glance that dared her to contradict his story, “without breaking eye contact, she reached over and picked up the jar of pickles. And she opened that jar herself. Loudly.”

He made a popping sound with his mouth, and everybody laughed.

Amy, who had been hovering around the edges of the group, spoke up first. “What I want to know is why you brought pickles in the first place, June. You don’t even like them!”

Both Steve and June swung around and fixed her with scandalized expressions.

“Amy,” Steve said, pretending to sound hurt, “pickles are an important component of any patriotic celebration.”   


June pushed up her sleeves and then crossed her arms again.

“Okay, so first, Star-Spangled Man with a Shield over here is right.”

His ears actually reddened.

“You have to have pickles at Fourth of July,” she continued. “It’s part of the platonic ideal of a cookout. It just wouldn’t be right without them.”

Steve looked over at Amy as if to say, “Did you understand any of that?” but she just rolled her eyes.

“And second?” she asked.

“Second, one of my relatives gave me a jar of homemade pickles last Christmas, and I was hoping they’d get eaten at your party.”

Amy threw her a look of mixed amusement and exasperation. “Well, I’m just glad you two are making friends.”

Friends? With Captain Red-White-and-Beautiful? Hardly.

Still...June was starting to enjoy messing with him.

“Oh, no. No way.” June shook her head. 

Amy and America’s Boyfriend both looked concerned. 

“If we’re going to be friends, you need to stop with all of this.” She waved at his midsection. When she glanced up, he was giving her a baffled frown.

Amy was also confused. “June. What--”

“Your clothes, silly. They’re atrocious.”   


His stupid face muscles relaxed into a smirk. “Is this...is this an ‘On Wednesdays we wear pink’ situation?”

The librarians stared at him for a moment before bursting into surprised laughter.

“You’ve seen Mean Girls?” Cora wheezed.

“Of course I’ve seen Mean Girls. Everybody’s seen Mean Girls.”

“Amy hasn’t,” June and Cora said together.

He turned to Amy. “You aren’t missing much. The only reason I watched it is because Romanoff quotes it all the time, mostly at Stark. Sometimes he quotes it back at her. I think I recognized every line in the movie by the time I got around to watching it.”

"No, you're supposed to to say, 'I can't believe you haven't seen Mean Girls. Everyone's seen Mean Girls.' We've been working on her for  _ months _ ,” Cora said.

“Eh.” He gave Amy a shy smile that set June’s teeth on edge. Not that she was afraid Captain Boy Scout over here was a creeper or anything, she just couldn’t think why he’d side with Amy over one of the best films of the early 2000s.

“Okay, but seriously, this whole baggy shirt tucked into baggy pants thing has got to stop,” June protested to try regain control of the conversation. “Don’t you have a PR person to keep you from blinding us all with your 70-year-old taste in clothing?”

Grinning sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I do. He told me to wear what I’d normally wear...something about old-fashioned charm.”

“ _ No _ . Ditch that PR dude.”

His eyes widened. A couple of the female librarians who were hanging around chimed in with “yeah!”

“No, I’m serious. This is not good. If you want people to take you seriously, if you ever want to be more than a cultural icon from the last century, you’re gonna have to update your wardrobe.”

Lily butted in. “Listen to the woman. She’s right.”

“She...has a point,” the nation’s favorite senior citizen admitted. “So. Miss Fashion. What do you suggest?”

June wasn’t sure if she was more flattered by the request for advice or the nickname, but if he started calling her Miss Fashion, that was basically permission to call him stuff like Freedom Face out loud...right?

“Well.” She nodded seriously. “You need better fitting shirts and a nice pair of tight jeans. A t-shirt now and then would be a good idea. And none of this tucking your shirt into your pants nonsense. Nobody does that anymore.”

“Tight jeans…like that?” Steve pointed at Frank, who was just leaving the media room.

A chorus of “noooooo” erupted from the women.

Amy frowned. “Not skinny jeans. Definitely not skinny jeans.”

“No no no,” June agreed. “What you want is a good bootcut. They should be snug, but not like they’re painted on.”

Karla and Lily nodded vigorously, which made Star-Spangled Fashion Disaster’s amused look turn into a full-blown smile.

“Well, I know what I’m doing this afternoon.” He shook his head. “You ladies are always so helpful.”

June could hardly believe that he was taking her advice seriously. But then again, this was also the same guy who’d thought it was a great idea to punch Hitler in the face repeatedly while wearing tights.

“I guess you could say we find your lack of fashion disturbing,” Lily piped up.

The rest of the librarians laughed, but Steve cocked his head.

“That sounds like a reference to Star-something. Trek? Gate? Wars?”

“Honey,” Karla breathed, reaching out for, but not daring to touch, his bicep. “Please tell me you’ve seen Star Wars.”

Steve shook his head, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “I feel like it’s like Mean Girls. You know. Something people quote into oblivion.”

“No!” Cora cried. “Do you seriously mean no one has sat you down and made you watch Star Wars?”

“Nah. And it’s all aliens and spaceships, right? I watched a lot of westerns growing up, and sci-fi was more…” he trailed off, as if expecting the librarians had stopped listening.

He was wrong, of course.

“Sci-fi was what?” Amy prompted gently, wincing at her own words as soon as she spoke them.

“Bucky liked sci-fi better. I used to talk him into going to westerns with me. Well, I might have used a few well-timed sniffles or coughs to get him to feel sorry enough that he’d take me. But every once in a while, I went to one of his pictures with him. He’d feed me candy to keep me shut up through the stupid parts.”

He grinned, and life seemed to trickle back into the room, to everyone but June. She had that same uncomfortable feeling she had when she found him crying in Special Collections, and when he finally found the voice to say “Bucky,” she realized what it was: not the embarrassment of intruding on someone’s private sorrows, but on visiting your own sorrows and finding a fellow mourner standing next to you.

When he said “Bucky,” a different name appeared in her own mind, and she was conscious for the first time that American Icicle might just be the only person who could understand what it was like to lose someone who had chosen the person she really was, not the person she tried to be.

“I didn’t know sci-fi was a thing when you were a kid,” Lily was saying.

Watching Amy’s annoyed expression was enough to bring June back to reality. Oh, Amy. Just because she knew all about the pop culture of Patriot Pants’ childhood didn’t mean the rest of the world did, too.

“Well,” Amy struggled. “You should give it a try, Steve. Science fiction has come a long way since  _ Metropolis _ .”

June suppressed a snicker. Of course Amy had seen friggin’  _ Metropolis _ . It was terrible, but Steve had probably watched it as a child, so of course she’d prioritize it over Mean Girls.

“Star Wars,” June said, “is made of freedom and dashing heroics, and you would watch the shit out of it.”

He threw his head back and laughed loudly enough to startle a couple of agents who were working in the main reading area. They looked over, disgruntled, and did a double take when they saw Captain Awesome joking with a small cluster of librarians.

June suddenly felt proud to be the one who had made him laugh, even if he was her least favorite superhero. 

“Well, I guess I have to watch it now,” he said. “Could I borrow it from one of you?”

Lily squared her shoulders. “Absolutely not. Friends don’t let friends watch Star Wars alone. This calls for a movie night, immediately.”

_ No no no no no. _

June was not prepared for this. Aggressive teasing, yes; after-work socializing, no.

Surely she could count on Amy to be the sensible one and say no, or at the very least, delay anything until next week, when she would be more emotionally prepared. She threw her a desperate look.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “We could use the media room tonight after A.C.C.E.S.S. closes.”

No. Amy. Betrayal.

Well...fine. She could think of worse ways to spend her Friday night than watching a movie with friends, even when one of them was a ridiculously muscled superhero that she’d rather avoid.

She gave him an overly bright grin to mask her frustration. “So. Capsicle. On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?”

*

Lily wolf whistled when Steve walked into the media room in a skin-tight gray t-shirt and delightfully snug (but not skinny) jeans.

With a huff of triumph, June crossed her arms and propped her feet on the chair in front of her spot on the sofa. When Red White and Booty looked over at her for approval, she gave him a satisfied nod to mask her shaking nerves.

It was flattering that he’d taken her advice, but her heart rate was weirdly high, and it wasn’t because he looked so nice in those clothes. She had spent the afternoon overthinking the whole movie night, and she still wasn’t convinced this was a good idea.

At least Amy appreciated the new look, even if she didn’t exactly say so. June didn’t miss the stealthy, appraising glance she gave him as she took the Bran Delights (that looked and sounded less than delightful) Steve had made and set them on the table with the subs, chips, and sodas Cora and Lily had picked up for dinner.

“Wow,” Amy told him, conscientiously avoiding looking anywhere below his shoulders while she was talking. “You went shopping  _ and  _ had time to make a snack for us. I’m impressed.”

“It wasn’t so bad, although picking out clothes took longer than I expected. I had five salespeople helping me with at least five different opinions, but I think we managed to find some stuff that looks nice.”

“Wait, FIVE?” Amy managed.

“Is...is that not normal?”

A chorus of “no” and more laughter erupted from the librarians.

“Well.”  He paused, smirking . “At least they were helpful...eventually. And I guess it doesn’t matter that it took over an hour to pick out the right pair of jeans. I’ve had a lot of extra time on my hands lately.”

Was that a note of bitterness June detected? Deciding she needed to get closer to the conversation, she scrambled off the couch and poured herself a cup of coffee from the selection she’d ordered from the Triskelion Starbucks to share.

“What, no more aliens left to fight?” Lily teased. 

She and Heidi  giggled at each other, and Mr. America couldn’t help smiling back.

“It’s part of the whole lying-low-after-New-York thing. S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t give me anything to do besides PR work, and there’s no end in sight to that.”

“Sounds like the U.S.O. tour all over again,” Amy muttered. 

June looked up from her coffee in time to catch her friend blush. She knew Amy was trying to avoid fangirling in front of her idol, so even though it was funny to watch her slip up, June still cringed inwardly for her friend.

Instead of being weirded out or embarrassed, Steve caught Amy’s eye and gave her a look that June couldn’t quite interpret.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. His thoughtful expression faded, and he grinned in June’s direction. “But with fewer tights--or skinny jeans--this time.”

She returned the smile before taking another gulp of her drink.

Before she could say anything, he spoke again. “Good grief, is that coffee?”

She nodded.

“June’s our resident coffee addict,” offered Amy.

“It’s a little late in the day for coffee. Won’t it keep you awake?”

“Just because caffeine doesn’t affect you doesn’t mean you get to tell the rest of us when to drink it.” Out of spite, she chugged the rest of her coffee and refilled her cup.

He gaped at her. Obviously he wasn’t used to being talked back to. Well, he’d just have to learn, wouldn’t he?

“Come on, assorted scruffy nerfherders,” Lilly called from the couch. “Let’s get this show started!”

Once everyone had filled their plates with food--Patriotic Smartmouth smirked every time someone avoided the Bran Delights, and June was beginning to like his style--Roger brought up Episode VI on the overhead projector and clicked play.

Of the librarians, only Amy, June, Cora, and Roger could show up on a Friday night on short notice. Karla complained loudly enough about not being able to make it that Amy had promised that she could choose the next group activity once they finished the show. June felt this was kind of like promising a ball to Lydia Bennet. There was no telling what she’d choose--probably something with alcohol and people of assorted gender in skinny jeans.

Lily and Heidi were there, too, but the other interns either had Friday night plans or part-time jobs. Of the librarians who could make it, it was surprisingly easy to decide on watching Star Wars in machete order. Frank was probably the most vocal supporter of the prequels, and he wasn’t there.

Although there was some humming to the theme music, some excited bouncing from the interns during the cantina scene, and a few outbursts at favorite parts (“WOMP RATS,” June said with Wedge Antilles and Roger kept making Vader noises), the librarians stayed weirdly quiet through the whole movie. They all kept glancing at Patriot Pants from time to time to see how he was reacting.

In spite of his normally snarky mouth, Captain Menace seemed to be the silent movie-watcher type. He kept his chin propped on his hand in a thoughtful pose for most of the film, but by the time the Death Star exploded, his eyes were wide with delight.

“Did you love it?” Heidi shouted at him as the end credits blared.

“I...hm,” he said, trying to sound serious but still grinning widely. “I’m curious to see where the story goes, but I like it so far. It reminds me of the westerns I used to love when I was a kid, but in  _ space _ .”

They took a quick break to collect more food.

June, who had already filled her plate, sat sideways on the couch and watched Cora and Lily fight over who got to try Captain Horrifying Vintage Foods’ Bran Delights first. In the end, they both got Heidi to count down for them and then took a bite at the same time.

The more disgusted Roger looked at their antics, the more they insisted that no, the Bran Delights were actually, well...delightful, and was he sure he didn’t want to try one?

Not to be outdone, Heidi also tried some and said the same thing.

June wasn’t convinced. No way was she going to touch that stuff.

After a while, Amy rolled her eyes and returned to her seat with a plate full of chips and cookies. Star-Spangled Betty Crocker was still standing by the food table, clearly enjoying the minions’ antics.

June could tell that Amy was about to suggest they all get back to watching the next episode, when they were interrupted by a piercing, tinny whine.

_ Who’s strong and brave, here to save the American waaaay… _

Even though she knew what was going on, June startled with the rest of them.

Amy froze, fear in her eyes, and the Star-Spangled Brat himself was turning a patriotic shade of red.

“Is--is that  _ my _ phone?” Amy sputtered, diving for her purse.

She answered just in time, with a strained “hello?” that was probably louder than she meant.

As Amy talked on the phone, the minions giggled amongst themselves and gradually returned to their seats.

Meanwhile, the flush was starting to fade from the former tight-wearing superhero’s face, but his ears were still maroon. When he recollected himself, he gave June a knowing look that told her payback was coming.

She’d enjoy his and Amy’s embarrassment while it lasted, and if he could take a joke and then give it back--well. Maybe he was her kind of person after all.

In any case, a prank war would be a great distraction.

“That was Frank,” Amy announced when she hung up. “His plans fell through, so he’s going to join us after all.”

Suddenly, her expression changed, and her gaze fell on June.

“ _ What  _ did you do to my phone.”

June grinned as widely as she dared. “You changed your ringtone. I changed it back for you.”

“ _ You-- _ ” Amy forgot herself lunged toward June.

June knew she wouldn’t hurt her. Amy would never tackle or shove or throw pens and erasers at anyone unless it was all in good fun. Still, she wasn’t about to let her catch her.

Careful to avoid smacking Cora in the face, June vaulted over the back of the couch and raced out of the room.

When she returned a couple minutes later, it was only to grab the empty coffee carton and zip back out.

“I’m only going out to get more coffee,” she yelled as she left, holding the door slightly ajar in front of her like a shield.

“Sure you are.” Amy held out a fistful of chips as if she were about to throw them at the door.

“Do not start  _ Empire Strikes Back _ without me, Amy, or I swear to God I will change your phone language to Mandarin!”

Miraculously, she didn’t.

When June got back, Cora, Lily, and Heidi were still chatting on the couch as Amy, Roger, and the American Nerd were gathered around something on the food table.

“We did not wait because of you,” Amy told her. “We were waiting for Frank to get here.”

Frank was bent over a plate of Bran Delights with his phone. 

“Hey there,” she said when he didn’t respond. “What are you doing?”

“Hey! June! I’m recording Steve’s latest offering for posterity. I just gotta…” he returned to his phone, running a hand through his otherwise perfect hair. “Just gotta find the right...filter.”

“He said five thousand people on his Insta-whatsit liked the Jello salad I brought last night.” Supersoldier Bomb Pop looked way too smug.

“Don’t get too excited,” June warned, pointing at him and his stupid face. “They probably liked it ironically.”

“What?”

“It’s a hipster thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Hey, I’ve spent a year and a half in the 21st century. I damn well know what hipsters are.” He pointed at the oblivious Frank with an innocent look.

The IT guy looked up from his phone. “And it’s done! I think I started a trend yesterday. Or at least a hashtag.”

“Hashtag-horrifying-vintage-food?” June guessed.

Frank laughed and nodded.

As Amy walked the Capsicle back to their seats, talking his ear off about tagging and folksonomies, June nudged Frank’s arm gently.

“So what happened? Did you get stood up again?” she joked.

“Nah, my girlfriend coaches a girls’ volleyball team, and she was really tired when she got home from practice. We cut our Skype date short so she could get some rest.”

The room stopped.

“Girlfriend?” several voices asked at once.

Frank blinked. “Y’all didn’t know? It’s a long-term, long-distance thing.”

He held up his phone and let June scroll through his Instagram feed.

“See? She’s right there. And there. And…”

June held the phone out so the other librarians could see Frank’s photos of a rosy-cheeked blonde girl who always seemed to be wearing a strand of chunky pearls. He’d tagged all the images #sunshine, which seemed to match her personality.

“She’s real cute, Frank,” June said sincerely. “But you’re going to have to bring her by the library sometime before we can officially approve.”

“Here is a long way from Greenville, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Shut it, you two,” Amy yelled across the room. “We’re going to start the episode without you.”

“In the words of another new friend who couldn’t be here tonight,” Steve added, “ANOTHER!”

*

“Another!” he said again while the credits rolled after Episode V. “Or is it getting too late?”

He had loosened up more during this movie, laughing over Han and Leia’s snark and Yoda’s mixed-up dialogue. And, June noticed, he sprawled over the edge of the couch, his elbow resting on the arm of Amy’s chair.

Amy reached for her phone to check the time and inadvertently brushed his bicep, and she froze for a split second, her eyes wide.

Instinctively, Captain Awkward pulled his arm back, but even in the darkened media room June could see a deep blush spread across his ears and neck.

From her sprawled position on the floor between them, June grabbed the pillow she’d stolen from Roger a couple hours ago and smacked Patriot Pants on the shin. 

“Definitely too late for another movie,” she spoke with a yawn. “Some of us like to get to sleep at a reasonable time,  _ Steven _ .”

It was the first time she’d actually said his name. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.

He gave her an odd look that was a mixture of amusement and annoyance and...something else she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Prequels next?” Frank piped up. “Yessssss!”

Lily and Heidi began a chorus of complaining. 

“Alright, we can pick this up another time,” Patr--well...Steve said. “But I still don’t understand the whole prequel thing. I wanna know what happens to Luke and Leia and Han!”

“Patience. Find out soon, you will,” Amy teased.

“Don’t worry, Han makes it out okay!” said Cora.

The other librarians threw pillows at her and yelled “spoilers!” even though Steve assured them he felt better knowing.

Reluctantly, they all pitched in to clean up the media room and began the long walk from A.C.C.E.S.S. to the parking lot and, for June and Amy and the rest of the carpool crew, to the Triskelion metro station.

Although the library itself was closed for the night, the Triskelion hummed along as night shift staff and agents pulsed through the hallways like a drowsy heartbeat. When they reached the atrium,  S tarbucks looked busy as if had been 10 am on Monday instead of just before midnight on a Friday.

Steve paused at the edge of the parking lot.

“Well, this is my stop,” he said a little sheepishly before June realized they were standing next to his motorcycle. Of course S.H.I.E.L.D. gave their superheroes special parking, near the entrance. It was where the Important People parked.

Silently, she swore up and down that she wasn’t jealous.

The librarians wished him goodnight and were already heading for the metro station at the far end of the lot when he said goodnight in return.

Something in his voice made June turn around.

“Goodnight,” she called again, walking backwards so she could face him.

“Goodnight again,” he said before revving the engine.

“GOODNIGHT,” June yelled over the noise of the bike.

“GOODNIGHT,” he hollered back.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Really, June?”

“REALLY,” June said. “Oops, sorry. I mean, goodnight. I mean, really. Yes.”

It had been a long, stressful day, and June’s brain was starting to rebel. Still, it had been a good day. Weirdly enough, she felt better than she could remember feeling in a long time. 

A burst of childlike energy hit her, and the sleepiness fell away.

“Last one to the metro station’s a rotten egg,” she said, making a dash across the parking lot.

*

When they reached June’s car at the Clarendon station, Amy’s phone bleeped. When she checked the text, she handed the phone to June.

“ _ Honestly _ , you two.”

It was Steve. June grinned, a stubborn gleam in her eyes.

“If he thinks I’m going to let him have the last word, he’s got another thing coming.”

Once she’d sent him another “goodnight” text--and changed Amy’s text tone for his number to something obnoxious--she leaned back in her seat and started the car.

He’d have to learn she was just as stubborn as he was.

In fact, they had a lot more in common than he realized. Maybe one day she’d let him figure that out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bran Delights are from the General Foods Cook Book, 1935.


End file.
